


From Water to Fire

by Freya_Kendra



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya_Kendra/pseuds/Freya_Kendra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode: Cypher. The lair of serial killer David Lash is in an old, abandoned warehouse. His extensive use of candles suggests a fire waiting to happen. In this take on the story, Jim and Lash fuel a fire during their struggle, leaving a chained and drugged Blair to face the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Water to Fire

Detective Jim Ellison breathed a sigh of relief. David Lash was dead.

Looking down at the body, Jim felt a tingle of anxiety. Lash's eyes were open, as each of his victims' had been, making it appear as though he'd been surprised to face his own mortality. The cold eyes stared lifelessly at the rotted and jagged shards of wood that entombed him, so unlike the clean water that had enveloped his victims. It seemed fitting somehow, in a heaven and hell sort of way. Where water had buoyed his innocent victims, much like clouds in heaven, here Lash lay in the basement of an abandoned warehouse, deep in the earth, that much closer to hell. Jim thought he could even smell brimstone as he swallowed against the bile that rose into his throat.

Another cautious sniff warned him he hadn't imagined the scent. Something was on fire.

"Sandburg!" He whispered coldly, remembering the candles Lash had burning in his trophy room, where Blair had been left in chains. Though the killer was dead, Sandburg could still become Lash's last victim.

Acutely aware of the brittle, dry wood surrounding him, Jim hurried back toward the room. The smell of fire intensified with each step as wisps of smoke grew into thick clouds. A distant, orange glow became a bright glare of recrimination. He should never have allowed Lash to get the upper hand on him. He'd been careless. He should have been able to take Lash without a fight. Instead, he'd fallen into Lash's trap, tripping on the rigged stairway. The resulting struggle had probably knocked over a dozen or more candles. While his own carelessness had forced him to pursue the killer, Sandburg had been abandoned up there amidst the growing flames, helpless and in chains.

"*The drug is short acting, the death, long suffering*..." He heard Carolyn's words echo in the hollowness of his thoughts. She'd been referring to drowning. *How much worse would it be to die by fire?* "No, that's not going to happen," He said to whatever spirits lingered in the walls.

* * *

Blair's eyes were fixed on a flame that licked its way up the wall across from him. It was like a living thing, absorbing everything it touched. Soon it would absorb what was left of Susan Frasier, Billy Bright and Adam Walker. It would absorb them much as Lash had hoped to do. There was something ironic in that thought. The fire would absorb them but not become them, while Lash had tried to become them but could not absorb them. And this is what it would all come down to. The life Lash had hoped to create was burning away long after the lives of his victims had been snuffed out in a pool of water. Ironic was the most academic word Blair could find. But terrifying was a more appropriate word for the moment.

Blair was trapped. If the chains weren't enough, Lash's drug was working its way through his system, immobilizing him even further. He found it strange that his head felt light while his body felt heavy. Too heavy. Or was it the chains? They seemed to have grown heavier than even an Arnold could lift. *Could Jim*?

Jim.... Where was he? He'd crashed through the window with Lash. For all Blair knew, they were both dead. *No, don't think like that, man*. The words lay locked in his throat. Like his limbs, his voice had been rendered useless. *Jim*! He wanted to shout. He could barely whimper.

The smoke was starting to sting his eyes and burn his lungs. *This is no way to die, man*. He'd almost prefer the drowning. *Don't think like that, man. Don't do that to yourself*! But how could he not? The flames were drawing closer, there was still no sign of Jim, and he had no chance of calling out to anyone else who might be close enough to hear him. He was trapped. Hopelessly and utterly trapped.

* * *

By the time Jim reached the door, the flames had already taken hold of the room. He tried to zero in on the chair at its center, to see his partner there. He tried too hard. The hot, bright fingers flickering before him seared into his skull. His eyes felt singed. He raised his arm in recoil, shielding himself. Too late. The damage had already been done. For a long while he could see nothing at all. He would have to rely on his other senses.

These were the kind of moments when a sentinel needed his guide the most. Was this Lash's revenge? Or some great, big cosmic joke? He now needed Sandburg as much as Sandburg needed him.

No. That wasn't true. Sandburg needed him far more. He could do this. He could use his other senses.

He tried to center himself, as Sandburg would have him do. With his eyes closed, he took a careful breath and searched through the flames for the scent of his partner. Tuning his ears past the crackling sound of burning wood, the occasional pop of exploding embers, he listened for a familiar heartbeat.

When his eyes began to tear, he wasn't sure whether it was relief or just his body's reaction to the fire. Sandburg was still alive.

He could do this.

He put a hand out before him to gauge the nearness of the flames and took a cautious step forward, testing the solidity of the stair beneath him before he gave it his full weight.

"Sandburg?" There was no answer.

He took another step, and another, finally coming to the missing board, the trap that had earlier ensnared him. He could get past this, too. He lowered himself down to sit on the last step, then let one leg guide him to the level of the floor.

"Sandburg?" He called out louder.

Though his partner still did not reply, he noticed an increase in the cadence of Sandburg's heartbeat. He hoped that simply meant he'd been heard. He knew it might also mean an increase in levels of pain.

The flames were all around him now, making it difficult to move ahead without benefit of his sight. Hoping the tears had been enough to refresh his vision, Jim tested his eyes, careful to tune down that sense before letting his lids flutter open.

The images were clouded at first, in a montage of orange and black. But at least he wasn't blind. He blinked until things began to solidify. Then he locked onto the image of his partner.

"Ji...Jim...." The voice was strained, the word mumbled.

"Let's get you out of here, Chief."

* * *

Blair felt like a sack of potatoes. Jim had wasted no time in grabbing him from Lash's chair and slinging him over one shoulder. An instant later they were flying through the flames.

And then it was all behind him. The hell of Lash's threats and the inferno of that psycho's legacy.... It was all behind him. It was over.

It seemed so surreal, so like a bad movie. He wanted to laugh. He couldn't tell whether it was his own lunacy taking control, or just pure and simple hysteria. But he wanted... no, he *needed* to laugh. When Jim gently lowered him to the ground in the sweet, cold night air of the waterfront, he started to giggle. It turned into a sob instead.

Jim noticed.

Blair should probably be embarrassed. He shouldn't show his emotions so freely. Jim wouldn't cry. Henri, Simon... none of them would cry. Or would they? For a moment, he could almost believe he saw a real tear in the corner of Jim's eye. But before he could confirm the sighting, Jim enfolded him in an embrace unlike they'd ever shared, pushing Blair's face deep into his chest. Like a father comforting his son. Or a brother. Yes, a brother. Jim held him like a real brother, spared from death, and appreciated in life.

~end~


End file.
